


Kinktober 22

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: Kinktober 2019 [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Coming Untouched, Dean is emotional, F/M, Feelings, Femdom, I'm making it a thing, Is that a thing, Kinktober 2019, Smut, Sub Dean, Sub!Dean, Submissive Dean Winchester, Telepathy, sexting with the mind, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: She finds a spell that gives her telepathy for an hour. What do you call sexting if you’re doing it with your mind?





	Kinktober 22

**Author's Note:**

> Day 22 of Kinktober with prompt Telepathy. The ‘spell’ is based on the Vulcan mind meld from Star Trek. I apologize for nothing.

Dean watched her prepare to perform the spell, shaking his head. 

“Where did you even find this spell?” He was skeptical, as he was to all things magic.

“At the bunker library, of course,” she replied.

Dean made an ‘of course’-face, picking up the bottle of lavender oil. She took it from his hand and put it back on the table. 

“Stop touching everything,” she admonished. “You’re gonna make me mess it up.”

Dean rolled his eyes but took a seat on the couch, slouching and pouting like a pro.

She added the dried skullcap and finished with a couple of drops of the lavender oil. 

“Okay, you ready?” She looked over at Dean, who was still pouting.

“Sure, whatever. Still don’t think it’s gonna work,” he shrugged.

Ignoring his commentary, she waved him over and pricked his finger, squeezing a drop of blood into the bowl. She struck a match alight and dropped it into the bowl of spell ingredients. Reading from the note next to the bowl, she focused on the pronunciation.

“Eich meddwl i'm meddwl, eich meddyliau i'm meddyliau.”

The flame in the bowl flashed purple for a moment, then died down. She looked up at Dean.

_ ‘Did it work?’ _ She felt like she was shouting her thoughts, impossible as that was.

Dean cocked his head and she felt something like an inaudible whisper in her own mind. It reminded her of the way she sometimes imagined hearing voices whispering in the forest when it was really just the leaves moving in the wind.

_ ‘Are you thinking about a...forest?’ _ She heard Dean’s voice faintly inside her head.

_ ‘Nevermind,’ _ she thought back at him. 

_ ‘Holy shit, it’s working!’ _ She felt Dean’s surprise in her mind rather than heard it.

Ignoring Dean’s grin, she imagined her fingers brushing against his cheek. Dean slapped his hand to his cheek and stared at her, wide-eyed.

“How did you do that?” 

She grinned and imagined pinching his ass. Dean yelped and flinched, glaring at her. She laughed, as much at his reaction as at the fact that the spell had worked. Dean’s face scrunched up in concentration and she watched him with a smirk on her lips.

“Why isn’t it working?” Dean looked at her, clearly frustrated when he failed to reciprocate.

_ ‘Because I cast the spell. I’m in control,’ _ she thought at him.

“Sonofabitch,” Dean muttered.

She imagined giving his ass a squeeze and watched him jump in surprise.

“This is so unfair,” he grumbled, pouting again.

Instead of replying, she imagined squeezing his cock. Dean’s eyes unfocused for a moment, his mouth falling open. When he looked back at her, she gave him a Chesire Cat grin. 

She nodded toward the couch and Dean shuffled backward until he all but fell onto it, half-lying against the corner. She imagined her hands caressing the inside of his thighs, nails scratching lightly. Dean’s mouth fell open again and he watched her through half-closed eyes. When the feeling stopped abruptly, Dean looked up at her questioningly.

“I have a better idea,” she smirked at him. “I’m in the mood for a burger and fries.”

She headed to the front door, leaving Dean scrambling to catch up. She heard him huff and follow her while she put on her boots. By the time she stepped out onto the front porch, Dean was right behind her, car keys in hand. 

They drove the five minutes into town, parking outside the only diner. The whole way there, she could sense Dean’s muttering in his mind. It made her want to laugh out loud. If only he knew what she had planned.

She headed straight for a booth at the back of the diner, trusting Dean to follow. The place was fairly quiet at that time of day. Breakfast was over and it was a bit early for lunch. There were still a couple of other customers, as well as two waitresses and the cook in the back. 

They had barely sat down before one of the waitresses came over to take their order. Dean ordered a bacon cheeseburger with chili cheese fries. She settled for just a bacon cheeseburger. The waitress’s name was Debra, she was in her sixties and all smiles, calling them ‘honey’ and ‘dear’. She almost felt bad. Almost.

While Debra went to put in their order, she looked Dean straight in the eyes while imagining a single finger dragging slowly up the inside of his thigh. Dean’s jaw clenched, but he did not look away. She could see the glimmer of realization in his eyes.

Debra returned with a couple of glasses of water, chirping about the lovely weather so late in the year. Dean smiled and nodded, and tried to ignore the feeling of fingernails softly scraping over his balls. She saw the sweat break out at his hairline and smirked.  She sipped her water and imagined giving his balls a squeeze. Dean ignored his glass clenching his hands on top of the table. They had a few minutes before their food would be ready and she took full advantage. 

Invisible hands palmed his cock, stroked his balls, even wormed their way down to his ass to tease at his hole. She watched Dean’s eyes flick around the diner, clocking the location of each of the people in there. His face was flushed from both arousal and embarrassment. She cocked her head and put her hand over his.

_ ‘Trust me,’  _ she thought at him.

Dean took one more look around the diner then met her eyes, breathed deeply, and nodded. He had no time to relax though. As soon as he nodded, quick as a thought, invisible fingers dragged along his shaft. Dean’s breath hitched. His eyelids fluttered, but he kept his eyes on her. 

It could not have been more than fifteen minutes until Debra arrived with their food, but to Dean, it felt like an eternity. He expected her to let up while the waitress was there, but all through the pleasantries, those invisible hands kept teasing his cock and balls. Debra even remarked on how flushed Dean looked and recommended a local pharmacy before leaving them to their meal.

When she finally left, Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. Her sweetest smile met him when he looked back up and he just knew she would not let him eat in peace. Resigned, he picked up his burger and took a bite, only to nearly choke on it when his mind filled with the vivid image of her naked body writhing in pleasure.

Dean coughed and glared at her, knowing it would have absolutely no effect. Throughout the meal, she kept her mental hands off his cock and instead filled his head with images and sounds of her. Each time she took a bite of her burger, the image would change. He struggled to finish his burger and was about to push the fries away, too distracted to focus on food at the moment. 

"You still look hungry, Dean. You should finish your food." She smiled sweetly.

As soon as he reached for the fries, another image flashed in his head, this time of her pussy. Dean groaned. His cock strained against the tight denim fabric, aching to be let free. At that point, he would have much rather buried his face in the pussy he saw so vividly in his mind than eaten a single fry. He tried to adjust himself, discreetly, but immediately felt a slap on his hand.

_ ‘Hands above the table,’ _ she smirked at him, taking another bite of her burger.

This time it was her naked in the shower, water running down her body, one of her hands between her legs, the other propping her up against the wall. Dean chewed and swallowed on autopilot, barely even tasting the fries. 

She finished her burger and Dean dared hope that she might relent. His hope was dashed when she took a sip of water. Suddenly the invisible hands were back, touching, teasing, stroking; it was like there were three pairs of hands at once. Dean’s hand shook and he dropped the fry he had been about to put in his mouth. The images in his head were like a homemade porn reel, complete with sound. Combined with the touching, he was about to cream his pants in the diner. He looked up at her, pleading silently.

_‘Please, baby, I can’t-’_ His thought was cut off when she teased his prostate while stroking his cock. 

Dean was trembling, his hands gripping the edge of the table. He was right on the edge. She had no intention of making him come in his pants in the diner though. As if a switch had flipped, everything stopped at once. She smiled at him over the rim of her glass.

“You gonna finish those fries, sweetie?” She looked as cool and composed as she had when they entered while Dean was a trembling mess barely holding it together.

He shook his head and reached for his water, taking a long drink. His hand shook, almost spilling the contents of the glass when he set it back down. She got up to take care of the check, giving Dean a couple of minutes to compose himself enough to make it to the car at least. He fully expected her to launch another assault as soon as they were on their way back to the house.

Debra gave him a big smile and a wave when he passed by her on his way out and he thought he managed to respond appropriately. Mostly, he just hoped he was not walking funny. She was already in the passenger seat when he slid into the car and sighed deeply. He was just relieved to be out of the diner and someplace at least semi-private. 

When she only smiled at him again and said nothing, he started the car and headed back. Wonder of wonders, she left him alone during the drive, letting him focus on not getting them both killed in a horrible car accident. She also stayed silent the whole way. Dean glanced at her a couple of times during the drive but chose to keep his mouth shut. He had his suspicions about what she was up to.

They had barely made it inside when he felt a caress on his ass. He looked over at her to catch her smirking. She winked at him and walked past him into the living room, taking a seat in one of the two overstuffed armchairs. When he followed her into the room, she nodded toward the couch.

_‘Take your clothes off and take a seat.’_ The thought flitted across his mind.

Dean did as she told him, his eyes on her the whole time. She kept her mental hands off him until he sat down. 

_‘Relax, and let me take care of you.’_ Her thought was a soft whisper inside his mind.

Dean relaxed back against the couch, his legs falling open. His cock lay half-hard against his thigh. He let his eyes fall half-closed and watched her. The first thing he felt was a soft caress from his knee to his groin. Then again, on his other leg. Nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. An impossible second set of hands flicked his nipples while the first set continued to stroke his thighs. 

Dean’s lips parted when his breathing got heavier, tongue flicking out to wet them. His hands lay flat against the couch seat, fingers scratching against the smooth leather. He looked down his body, expecting to see two sets of hands touching and teasing his flesh, but there was nothing there. It was a totally surreal feeling that made his head spin. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the couch back, letting himself just feel.

Images started flashing through his mind again, of her, or parts of her. Dean was panting now, and she had yet to touch his cock. A third set of hands appeared, one cradling and teasing his balls, the other slipping under him to play with his ass. Dean’s legs spread wider to give her better access. 

His hands gripped the couch, fingers digging into the leather when the first set of hands finally touched his cock. Fingertips brushed over the skin, barely touching. His cock twitched. It was too much. He wanted more.

Three pairs of hands touched and teased all at once. They seemed to be everywhere at once. Pinching and rolling his nipples. Massaging and teasing his balls and ass. Stroking his cock. Dean moaned and writhed under the touch of all the hands at once. Then he felt lips against the side of his neck. Nipping a trail up his neck to that spot by his ear. He shivered at the feeling.

He was going to come. It was too much. The images in his mind, the touching, and teasing, the kisses. His cock lay against his belly, hard and throbbing. Weirdly, at the same time, it felt like it was being stroked by two hands at once. His balls had tightened, but also they were being pulled away from his body. His ass clenched around nothing, but two fingers slowly pumped in and out, massaging his prostate. The whole thing made his head spin. 

His orgasm snuck up on him, wrapped up as he was in all the simultaneous stimulation. All of a sudden his body trembled, and he cried out with the force of the release. He felt the come spurt out of his cock and onto his belly, hot and sticky. The invisible hands and lips worked him through the orgasm, slowly disappearing while he came down. The last thing he felt was a warm wet tongue licking the hollow of his throat. Then it was all gone.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the light of the single table lamp. It seemed bright to him. She was still sitting in the armchair, almost on the other side of the room from him. The look in her eyes was of awe. Dean felt his face heat, embarrassed that she would look at him like that. He sat up and reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table, taking the excuse of cleaning himself up to avoid looking at her.

He heard her get up and come over to him. Felt it when she sat down next to him. Her hands on his, her physical hands, stopped him. He dropped the used tissues on the table and let her take his hands in hers. She squeezed gently but when that did not work she turned his head physically to look at her. 

Her smile almost blinded him. There was no way he could resist returning it, even if his was far less bright. He tried to think at her, but his mind was quiet except for his own thoughts. The spell had run its course.

“That was absolutely beautiful, Dean.” Her voice was soft, full of awe like her eyes had been.

He almost made a flippant remark but managed to hold it back. Instead, he only nodded. He needed a moment to process what he was feeling. She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then brushed her lips against his. 

“I’ll be upstairs. Take your time,” she told him in the same soft voice. 

She gave his hands a gentle squeeze before standing and heading upstairs. Dean watched her go, overwhelmed by emotions. Only one of them was clear: he loved her.


End file.
